Tree without blossoms - Chapter 14/20

[sunmontue]

Title: Tree without blossoms
Pairing: Kurt Hummel/David Karofsky, mention of past Kurt/Blaine, Kurt/OC and Dave/OC, Mercedes Jones/OC,
Rating: M/NC-17
Word count: ~6,500 words for this chapter
Warnings: None that I can think of as yet that aren’t already indicated by the rating.
Summary: A future!fic set in 2025 where Kurt and Dave's lives intertwine again, proving just how small the world really is, and how Fate has a twisted sense of humour. AU from end of Season 2.
Author's note: Thanks to Debraelq for answering my questions. I sometimes have a lot of them. There will probably be six chapters after this, (then an epilogue). Massive thanks to all the readers and reviewers – you guys rock. Also all the people on tumblr that follow me (especially Debraelq, my first ever follower!) – thanks for putting up with me as I probably make many mistakes (continuously) as I figure it out. If you're on tumblr feel free to look me up (sunmontue-writes). I pretty much follow anyone who doesn't broadcast hate. If you're following me and I'm not following you, prod me. I'm learning. Dave and Kurt cyber-cookies if you can figure out what Dave's tell is. ;) (I think it's pretty freaking obvious.)

CHAPTER ONE - AUGUST 2025 (part one)                  CHAPTER TWO - AUGUST 2025 (part two) 
CHAPTER THREE- AUGUST 2025 (part three)              CHAPTER FOUR - SEPTEMBER 2025
CHAPTER FIVE - OCTOBER 2025 (part one)                CHAPTER SIX - OCTOBER 2025 (part two)
CHAPTER SEVEN - OCTOBER 2025 (part three)          CHAPTER EIGHT - NOVEMBER 2025 (part one)
CHAPTER NINE - NOVEMBER 2025 (part two)             CHAPTER TEN - NOVEMBER 2025 (part three)
CHAPTER ELEVEN - DECEMBER 2025 (part one)        CHAPTER TWELVE - DECEMBER 2025 (part two)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - DECEMBER 2025 (part three)



CHAPTER FOURTEEN - JANUARY 2026 (part one)

Dave holds his head in his hands and stares at the wood grain on his dining room table, hoping the drugs kick in soon. He's hung-over. Probably the worst he's been since college, and he only has himself to blame. That, and his apparent willingness to go along with Harry's ridiculous drinking suggestions. Vodka mixed with sparkling black currant wine. Really? If he looks up he knows he's going to see the carnage of the previous night littered around his apartment and he can't bring himself to care, because he feels sick, and stupid, and Kurt is asleep in his bed and he can't do a damn thing about it because every movement takes all his conscious thought. Any thoughts left over he uses to focus on not throwing up. And he needs the pills to stay in his stomach so they can fucking well start working.

A cool hand rests on the back of his neck and he groans, because he's pitiful, and what's even more cruel, is that Kurt is seeing him like this, at his worst, and he really should have thought about that last night when he'd accepted his first drink from Harry.

"I have to admit I am amused…" Kurt murmurs, and Dave knows he's probably whispering, but his voice still sounds loud and echo-y in his head.

He lets Kurt coax him up out of his chair and carefully steer him back to bed. Kurt tucks him in, cold cloth over his eyes, a whispered 'there's a bucket just down beside you' and the curtains are closed, lights turned off, door closed and he's ensconced in warm dark silence.

---

Kurt isn't afraid of hard physical work. And seeing as he can't exactly go outside for a run, and there isn't a treadmill laying around in Dave's apartment, he throws himself into cleaning. He doesn't know what to do with all the empty bottles, so he places them on a part of the kitchen bench, out of the way. He starts the first load of dishes through the dishwasher, hand washing the more delicate glasses. He collects up pieces of discarded food and throws it away. Wipes down multiple sticky surfaces and opens up a window very briefly to air the lounge of the stale smell of alcohol and too-many bodies. He scrubs at the tiles in the bathroom, and the kitchen floor. He'd hoover, except he's pretty sure that sound might just kill Dave right now.

When he's finally finished he's hot and feeling decidedly sticky, but the apartment resembles an apartment again. He opens the door to Dave's bedroom, the door making a shushing sound as it slides against the carpet and he draws his phone from his pocket so he doesn't need to turn on a light. He can hear the quiet rhythmic breathing of Dave asleep, and for a brief moment he's tempted to simply crawl into bed with him. Instead he quietly gathers us his toiletries, a change of clothes and heads to the bathroom, leaving Dave to recover.

After his shower he goes into the lounge, nestling into the cushions, wrapping a blanket around him, and pulls his pad of paper from his laptop bag. He's made a list, trying to recall the list of contacts in Dave's phone while on the plane back to LA. It's turned into a bit of an obsession, and he's even talked to Finn about the difference between DC comics and Marvel comics, because while he'd very much like to think Dave's assigned him a superhero nickname he's pretty sure those are probably either workmates or football teammates.

Finn had mentioned something about a justice league, and he suspects that maybe the DC heroes are workmates, while the Marvel heroes are teammates. It's just a theory, but last night had been incredibly helpful. He'd probably met every single person Dave and Mike know in Chicago, and he'd paid extra close attention to their names and how Dave had first greeted them. It's exactly why he has no hangover. Every time he could, he'd slipped away to the bedroom and scribbled names down and how Dave greeted them. Of course, this had backfired a couple of times, with more people arriving while he's trying to figure this out…He lets out a small sigh, because he could just ring Dave's phone and see what comes up, but that would feel like cheating.

Kate is Princess. Which he figures must be a parallel between her being English and having the same name as the current Queen over there. He's pretty sure Harry is Potter, A drain is Adrian and Big D is Mike. These are the ones he's fairly confident are right, other than Mercy and Satan. Tom could be Tank, but it would be a guess. Christine is probably Scary mom. He has no idea what Dave calls Karen, and there are still so many options. He's noticed that some of the nicknames Dave uses, and others he doesn't, although he's not discerned a pattern yet. And sometimes Dave only uses the name when he firsts greets the person, and then he uses their proper name.

Using his notes he manages to work out another ten names, but still not his own. Screw it. He's out of patience. He pulls his phone out and flicks to Dave's name, and the picture of him lying almost naked comes up on the screen and Kurt bites his lip, mouth suddenly dry. He's not quite sure how Dave would react if he saw that. Sure he's got a photo of himself in almost the exact same position, but it's on a wall in his apartment, and no doubt taken with his knowledge and permission.

He puts it in the too-hard basket for now and rings Dave's phone, quickly hanging up before the call can go through, or before the chime can sound on Dave's phone. A picture comes up, but Kurt remembers Dave taking it. He's wearing one of Dave's shirts, hair sticking up all over the place, crease lines from the pillow on his face and he looks terrible. Underneath the picture is the name Rock Hopper.

"Rock hopper?" Kurt mumbles, confused.

The only thing he can think of is a grasshopper, and he just doesn't get it. He's an insect? He'd rather be BatshitCrazy, at least he knows what that means. He pulls out his laptop, bringing it out of standby and he flicks into a search engine and types in rock hopper. He waits for the results to load and flicks to the images. It's a penguin. A fucking penguin. It's still confusing though, and he's fighting his urge to go and shake Dave awake and ask him what the hell it means. Because he wants to know, but knowing now or waiting until Dave wakes up and is less likely to throw up on him are on par with each other. He lets out an annoyed huff of breath and puts both phones on the coffee table, closing his laptop and chews on his lip.

---

His mouth feels furry and when he breathes he's pretty sure it could melt metal. He moves slowly, still not feeling great, but definitely better than this morning. Which was five hours ago. The room is still dark, but it's stuffy and uncomfortably warm, but he's not willing to try risking opening the curtains just yet. He goes into his en suite, brushing his teeth his top priority. And then probably brushing them again, because there feels like there is fuzz on fuzz in there.

The air in the hall feels refreshingly cool as he pads toward the lounge. He stands in the shadow of the doorway for a few moments and watches. Kurt's curled up, reading one of his books, although he has no idea which one. He's covered himself with the blanket from the back of the sofa, and as Dave starts paying attention to something other than Kurt he realises the lounge has been cleaned and tidied, and shit, if didn't feel bad enough already.

"You didn't have to clean up…I would have gotten to it." Eventually.

"Don't worry about it, I just counted it as my workout for the day. How are you feeling?"

"Better…" he replies, squinting as he moves into the bright light of the lounge to sit beside Kurt.

"Good. Um. Have you been talking to Blaine?"

"What? No. Why would I want to talk to him?"

"Huh. Good point. Okay…then can you explain this to me?"

Dave takes the piece of paper being thrusted at him. It looks like it's been screwed up and smoothed out a couple of times, and as he studies it he realises it's his contact list from his phone, beside which Kurt has listed a good number of his friends and tried to match them up.

"That's kind of stalker-like, going through my phone…" Dave comments, and he really doesn't care, but Kurt is looking at him as if he's found something Dave should be ashamed of. "What? What's there to explain?"

"A penguin?"

"What? What's wrong with penguins?" Dave replies, and he's not a hundred percent and really can't deal with whatever problem Kurt has with penguins. "Look, I can change it if you like. I mean…if it bothers you that much…"

"No. No. I'm being stupid and overreacting. It's fine. Really. But a penguin? Really?"

"Uh…okay. You know I don't think of you as a penguin right? I mean…" he pauses, because Kurt is watching him intently, like this is actually a serious fucking matter. He leans over and takes his hand, tugging him awkwardly into his arms, half-sprawled in his lap.

"When I go to phone you I don't think of a fucking penguin okay? I think of how your hair looked that morning, little tufts sticking out like feathers, because we'd been too busy having fantastic sex to care what we looked like. I think of your sexy sleepy smile when you wake up with a hard on, and the way you look wearing nothing but my shirt. You look good like that. Fuck you look good," Dave reiterates, and he means every word, but he keeps quiet about the fact that, for him, the name also indicates the moment he realised that he was in love with Kurt.

"Oh," Kurt says, releasing a long soft breath, and he's looking a bit bashful, eyes on his hands. Dave shuffles slightly to make himself more comfortable and Kurt lies down, placing his head in his lap. Dave runs his fingers through Kurt's hair, soft and trailing and Kurt makes a little sound of contentment.

"Tell me about the others?"

"The names?"

Kurt nods and Dave shrugs, because it makes no difference to him, his friends have been giving him shit about his weird-arse phone list for years. He keeps his parents and sisters as normal, if only because emergency service personnel would look for something normal like that. He's also got 'Emergency contacts' programmed into his phone, but they've never had to be used before. He starts at the top of the list.

---

Dave's reasoning has left him dizzy. He can't look at him right now, a bit scared of what he might see. He's pretty sure Dave loves him, and that possibility is a bit too much right now, when he's only just come to realise and accept his own emotions. Although he feels the truth of what Mercedes had said to him last week, Dave will wait until he's ready, which just reinforces his gut feeling that Dave loves him. For a brief second he feels like laughing hysterically, because it is crazy, but it's not going to change anything.

He lets Dave's voice wash over him, because he really does want to hear about the reasons behind the other names. He's heard about word-association, and if that's the association Dave has with that word, then…he can live with that. He's glad he didn't change it to something else, or shake him awake, or do anything overly dramatic. He'll have to remember that. Just to ask. Calmly. Dave will tell him. If he has a problem with telling, then he'll say so. He thinks of the tattoo, and knows he could ask about that again, and probably get an answer, but right now…

He learns a lot of completely useless information, some of it more interesting than others. That Santana is Satan only because when he kept on calling her Angel she threatened to skewer his balls. Mercy, because that's always how Mike refers to Mercedes. Hulk is apparently an Irish guy called Iain who Dave met on St Patrick's day and was painted completely green. Keke is Keegan, because he used to dress as a drag queen to earn money when he was a student. Scary Mom is Christine, because she scares him more than his actual mom does. Karen is CapitalT, and the T is for trouble, because that's what she is, although he can tell Dave is grinning when he says that.

He's got some names right, and his theory proves correct, and Dave mumbles about him not thinking that Kurt would know the difference between DC and Marvel comics. When he admits he phoned Finn for help Dave's body shakes as he laughs, and he relates Az's story about finding AJ and his boyfriend Jason reading comics and Dave saying that they'd be getting different things out of them. It's Kurt's turn to laugh, and he wonders if he should point that out to Finn, who still buys the odd comic book, sneaking it into the house like it's a porn magazine.

It's warm and comfortable and right. And he has another ten whole days of this before he has to go back to LA, assuming there isn't a costume-related emergency between now and then. He has work that needs doing of course, he can't leave it to backlog, otherwise he'll end up with a weeks of work to do and no time to catch-up. But Dave has to work as well, and he's pretty sure he has bought everything he needs with him ensure a productive work week.

Dave's fingers are effectively massaging his head, and he's finding it incredibly relaxing, he could go to sleep like this, and he wonders if Dave would like to join him back in bed. He's just realised how tired he's feeling, a heavy weight suddenly flowing through his body. Dave has been quiet for a few minutes, and Kurt's pretty sure the reason behind the Zebra nickname will likely always remain a mystery to him. He chances a look and sure enough, Dave's eyes are closed, but his fingers are still moving, but they're lighter and softer.

"Come on…let's go to bed…" Kurt says, and he moves slowly, wanting to preserve the sleepy lassitude.

"Hmm? I was just resting my eyes…"

"That's good, come rest them in bed while I sleep," Kurt mumbles, and he tugs at Dave's hand and he stands, blinking blearily, and Kurt can't resist angling in for a kiss. There's nothing rushed or urgent, and Kurt wraps arms around his waist, and it feels good.

---

Dave feels odd leaving for work. Kurt has set himself up at the dining room table, pulling out a laptop, a tablet, and what looked like a bunch of small pieces of fabric from a small bag. The last four days have been a type of vacation at home. They've had sex, lain together in bed reading, watched a couple of movies and talked about pretty much everything except where their relationship is at. And Kurt can deny it all he wants, but it's a relationship, and has been for him since October.

He thinks Kurt has realised it as well, he's caught Kurt looking at him a couple of times, and it's become this thing between them, to not mention it. At least not for now, because they will talk about it. He knows they will, but for now they both just seem to be enjoying each other and the way that they've just seemed to slot into place, altering their daily routines to either fit in or complement one another.

They've gone running together on the treadmills in the buildings gym, and while Kurt has done a series of stretching exercises he's worked through kata sequences. They've showered together, gone out to dinner with Mike and Mercedes, and he wants this to be his life. But as every day ticks by he knows it's one day closer to Kurt going back to LA. At least this time when he says goodbye Dave knows when he'll next see him. Unlike this little impromptu visit that Kurt kind of surprised him with, by turning up on New Year's Eve with a suitcase asking if he could stay. As if he'd ever say no. Kurt hasn't given him any indication that he forward plans them meeting up, it's all been spontaneous visits, but Dave has a trip to LA next month, for a conference for work.

He's already organised to extend the three-day conference visit by two days before, and four days after, giving him little more than a week in Kurt's life. He's filled with mild apprehension at the idea; because his life sounds hectic and filled with people Dave has never met and an ex-boyfriend that Kurt doesn't like but still moves in the fringes of his social circle. He's looking forward to it though, getting to see where Kurt lives and sleeps, learning what he does on a day-to-day basis.

He walks into the precinct and greets people as he walks past, and he's not sure if he's imagining it, but people are grinning at him more than normal. He starts getting suspicious when the fifth person raises their coffee cup in a silent toast to him. What the hell? He pushes the door to his office open and looks above the door, expecting a bucket full of paint or confetti or something equally annoying. Nothing. Karen is sitting at her desk, looking far too busy for eight-thirty in the morning on a Monday after a week's break. Although, maybe that isn't so suspicious. He expects this week to be a bit of a catch-up week. He checks his chair and desk for any possible practical jokes and sits down. He's known for his good sense of humour and easy going nature, so always seems to be the first person people try out a new practical joke on, because he'll laugh at himself. The whole atmosphere since he's arrived tells him something is up, but there's nothing. Yet.

It's not until he goes for a coffee at eleven that the piece of paper in the break room catches his eye. Karaoke Night. Every fucking year. He goes closer and sure enough, he's apparently signed up…he counts…eight times. Eight. And not a single time does the handwriting come close to his own. In fact, he's pretty sure that at least three of them are Karen.

"Not again," he mutters, it's been the same the last three years; he gets signed up to sing karaoke. He can't sing, which is why he never signs himself up, but every single fucking year he gives in and agrees to go along. Apparently listening to him butcher a song makes everyone feel better about their own musical talents. Or lack thereof. Whatever team he's been in has always come last, his score dragging them down, although whatever team he's in has also always won the 'good sport' award.

When he re-enters his office his eyes slide to Karen, who is trying (and failing) to look innocent.

"People could just ask me…"

"Well, I think they assume you'll say no."

"Right. Well, I'm giving in to peer pressure…" Dave sighs, and he doesn't really mind, but it means this Friday night he's not going out to dinner with Kurt, but going to a Karaoke bar with fifty or so of his workmates. And if Kurt decides to come along, well…

"People not in the precinct can join in right?"

"Yeah, why? You going to get Kurt to come watch your humiliation?"

"Kurt's seen me do a lot worse things than sing badly, and I'm thinking of putting his name to participate…"

Though Karen's hit on one of the few things that's he's actually insecure about regarding Kurt. He's only ever seen Kurt with Blaine, and he knows Blaine could sing just as well as Kurt, and the guys since Blaine, well, he has no idea, but he imagines that they've all been somewhat musically inclined. He knows logically that it doesn't matter, but he can't stop the irrational fear, even though he knows outwardly he won't show he cares.

"Really? Can he sing?"

"I…yeah. Yeah he can sing."

"Well enough to counteract you?"

"Fuck off," Dave mutters, but he nods, because while he hasn't heard Kurt sing properly since school, he has heard him sing under his breath, and he's always humming, and Dave's pretty sure music is in his blood. "He could have made it his living, if that's what he'd wanted."

"Really? And he's with you?"

"Fuck off," Dave repeats, and he's a bit pissed now, because he's not that uncouth. He knows music. He can play a musical instrument. He just can't sing. He can't be fucking good at everything. Kurt's not with him because he can sing, or can't sing or…he takes a deep calming breath, glares at Karen who is watching him with slightly raised eyebrows, and goes back to work.

Dave gets the first text message at around four in the afternoon, and it's fairly innocuous. 'I'm thinking of you'. He's not quite sure how to respond, so he doesn't, he can always say he was too busy. Thirty minutes later he gets another text. 'I found your toy draw'. He lets out a short huff and swallows, because individually the words mean very little. Strung together like that and his imagination is kicking into gear, and he's split between thinking Kurt's a nosey little bastard, and wondering what the hell Kurt's going to do now…and fuck it, he needs to know.

'Find anything you like?' Dave texts back, and he starts tapping out a familiar rhythm with his fingers. 'Maybe. I've always been partial to sparkly things.' Dave's heart and cock both jump, because there's only one sparkly thing that he owns, and it's clear silicon dildo, with glitter and holographic reflective dust-like-stuff all the way through. It's secretly one of Dave's favourites, and probably likely to jump to the top of the list.

He's not sure whether to text back, or call him or… Karen's in the room, and she's staring at him and Dave realises he's been tapping his fingers. He snaps his hand together guiltily and avoids her gaze, because he has a fucking tell, and she's been his partner too long to not be able to recognise it and know what it means. She's snorting in amusement now, and Dave's pretty sure he's blushing. Without looking at her, sitting on his right hand and using his left to type he sends back 'Don't tell me you're using it. You'll kill me.'

The reply comes not even thirty seconds later. 'Okay. I won't. I quite like you alive.'

"Fuck." He doesn't realise he's said it aloud, and he glances up to find Karen looking far too amused and waving a hand towards the door.

"Go on…go home and fuck your boyfriend already…"

"I…" he really has nothing to say to that, because that's exactly what he plans to do. "I'll see you tomorrow."

---

Kurt's sex drive is ramped all the way up. He's finding the more sex he has with Dave, the more he wants. Which had led him to hunt out Dave's toys. He'd mentioned them, and Kurt had known they were in the bedroom, so he'd gone looking. Dave had said to make himself at home…He'd gone through them all, curious, because Dave has quite an extensive collection, which for some reason he finds surprising. And arousing. The idea of someone using these on Dave, or Dave using them on him… and then he'd sent the first text.

He'd then sorted through the dildos, vibrators and plugs, the paddles, the feathers, nipple clamps, cocks rings, ties, handcuffs, a couple of blindfolds and some things which he's not actually sure of, but could hazard a pretty good guess. There's nothing that causes him any alarm, but it has caused his pulse to increase ever so slightly and that's when he sends the second text. If he's going to be uncomfortably turned on then Dave can know about it.

He gets a response this time, and he realises that it's probably inappropriate to be texting while Dave is at work, but…nothing he's said has been exactly explicit. He studies the items spread out in front of him, and his fingers run over a clear glittery dildo, nine inches long with five inch girth. Pretty. He bites his thumb, and then sends his third text. He knows what he's going to do now, and he's not going totell Dave exactly, but he hopes it will definitely give him some incentive to come straight home.

He puts a cock ring and the dildo to one side, along with an unopened tube of lube, and then places everything back in the draw. He strips quickly but then goes to Dave's drawers again, pulling on a t-shirt that he knows Dave likes on him. His phone chimes beside him, but he ignores it until he's up on the bed, pulling the sheets back and making himself comfortable. He checks the time and then Dave's message.

'Don't tell me you're using it. You'll kill me.'

Well, he's not using it yet, but he's fairly certain that's semantics. He sends back his reply and then tosses his phone over the side of the bed. He's going to be too busy to send any more messages, and he think he's made it pretty fucking clear to Dave what he's about to do. It's ten-to-five, so he figures Dave should be home in twenty-five to forty minutes.

He's chosen an adjustable ring, because he's not used one in a while, and he tightens it carefully, just the fact that he's doing this, with the intent that Dave come home and find him waiting and ready, is sending blood to fill his cock. He strokes down his chest to his cock softly, not wanting to start the party too early, but definitely wanting to be hard, leaking and desperate by the time Dave gets home. He pumps his cock until he's semi-erect, knowing it's only going to get fuller and harder as he progresses.

He spreads the lube on his fingers, not wasting time or trying to look sexy while doing it. This is all means to an end right now, and all he has to do is imagine that it's Dave doing this, or even just Dave watching. He slips one finger inside, working himself open and groans slightly. There's a faint ache still present from last time, nothing that won't fade away very shortly though. He takes his time, waiting until the ache has receded completely before inserting a second finger. The stinging returns briefly, and he forces himself to relax, scissoring his fingers and starting to pump them in and out.

He draws them out completely, adds more lube and then slides three back in. It's more difficult and the angle is awkward, and he feels insanely glad that Dave isn't actually here watching because he feels all tangled and twisted and while he's becoming more turned on, he can't say he feels particularly sexy right now. Funny? Definitely. Aroused? Of course… Sexy? Not so much… He hears his phone chime and gasps out a choked laugh, because there is no way he's stopping to go and check it.

He twists his fingers, trying to reach in as far as possible, stretching and turning, his arm muscles start to twinge and he's feeling warm all over. Prickly tight. He reaches out for the dildo, fingers curling around the silicon and he pulls out his fingers, wiping them on the sheet before reaching for the lube and coating it liberally. He wants Dave to be able to just sink right in, and fuck he hopes he's hard when he gets home, because he'll explode if he has to wait too long.

He draws his legs up a bit further, shoving a pillow one-handed under his hips to help. He has no idea how long he's going to be drawing this out for. He wiggles, making himself comfortable, and then positions the dildo at his hole, breathes out, pushes down with his body and up with his hand and tells himself to relax.

"Oh fuck…" he says, voice unnaturally loud in the empty room.

He pushes it in slowly, drawing it back out before pushing in a bit further. His other hand is on his cock, trying to match the pace, short light strokes alternated with longer harder ones. He works his own body until it's all the way in, and he can feel sweat starting to bead at his temples and he bites his lip as he cants his body upward. He moves the dildo, angling downward and across…and oh fuck. He repeats the motion again. And again. Again. Until his cock is hard and leaking in his other hand, and he uses the pre-come to ease some of the friction.

"Jesus fucking Christ…"

"Fuck…Dave. I didn't hear the door…"

"No wonder…god you look fantastic. Don't stop."

Kurt doesn't, the fact that Dave is now here, is undressing frantically while his eyes travel up and down Kurt's body, is making him even harder, and it's almost painful. Then Dave is kneeling on the bed, hands running up under the shirt, down his chest and sides, gripping his thighs and pushing his legs back.

"Gorgeous. Just…gorgeous, " Dave breaths, and he places his hand over Kurt's on the dildo, and Kurt lets his hand drop away. Dave sets up a different pace, moving it faster inward, before dragging it out slowly, deliberately and Kurt can feel Dave's cock pleasingly hot and firm against the back of his thigh.

"So much better than my imagination…" Dave says, and Kurt can't help the little moan that escapes, thinking that Dave has imagined him like this. "You in my shirt…almost better than you naked."

"I can take it off…"

"No. This is perfect…you're perfect. Fuck Kurt…you have no idea…"

Kurt's pretty sure he does have an idea, the way Dave is watching the dildo slide in and out of him, and he shudders, wanting and nearing release as Dave strokes across his prostate. He's stopped working on his cock. He wants Dave inside him.

"Okay…just let me…"

Kurt realises he's spoken aloud and good. Because he couldn't have waited much longer. Dave is reaching, tearing and sliding a condom down his cock in one practised movement. He flexes the muscles in his legs and Dave must notice, because a quick kiss is pressed to his ankle, then his knee… The dildo is being slid out, and he inhales at the sensation, but then Dave is pressing in, hands guiding Kurt's legs around him, fingers at his hips, pulling Kurt forwards as he moves to meet him.

"So good…" Dave hisses, and Kurt has to agree, because they've gotten better, although he's not quite sure how that's possible.

They're more sure of each other's bodies though, learnt things, lots of things, in the last two weeks, about how they each respond in bed. He's learnt that Dave very rarely, if ever, leaks pre-come, and that sometimes he remains hard for a while after he comes. How he truly has ticklish nipples, but licking them when he's close to orgasm make him cry out in pleasure. How Dave likes a bit of pain, although doesn't seem to want to inflict it. There's probably dozens of things he now knows but hasn't realised he knows. Dave moves and his body is taut with tension, and Kurt can tell that he's holding back, which isn't want he wants, it's not why he has spent almost half-an-hour stretching himself for.

"Dave…fuck…harder…"

"I…"

"Harder."

Dave seems to pause, and then his hips snap forward and Kurt lets out a startled gasp and groans 'yes'. That seems to give Dave all the encouragement he needs, because his hands become firmer, spreading him wider so he can get in even deeper when he thrusts forward. Kurt is pushing back against the headboard with one hand, one leg wrapped around Dave as high as he can hold it and holding the other against his chest, because he wants hard and deep, needs it. His cock is now painfully hard and flushed darker than normal, and he wants Dave to somehow grow a third hand so he can jerk him off because he's so fucking close. Dave then pulls out and Kurt feels indignant for all of a second before the look in Dave's eyes stop him.

"Ride me…" Dave orders and Kurt scrambles to obey, because fuck, this solves fucking everything.

They're disconnected for all of ten seconds, fifteen tops, Dave's hand on his cock, holding it upright as he lies back, resting on the pillows so he can watch Kurt position himself and he lets gravity assist as he sinks down; his legs are burning, but it pales compared to the burning ache in his groin. He rises, and as he lowers himself again Dave thrusts up, and fucking hell it's perfect. He speeds up, and Dave matches him thrust for thrust. He cries out when he feels a strong hand wrap around his cock, and it's moving furiously, another hand on his hip, fingers bruising hard, halting his upward momentum.

Kurt starts swearing, words blurring together as he mutters, all his tension spiralling to one pinpoint and then Dave's body is moving beneath him, hips making sharp upward thrusts, both hands now on Kurt's arse, spreading his cheeks wider and bringing him down to meet each thrust up. Kurt puts a hand on his cock, moving it rapidly as he watches Dave's face, and he can tell he's close, but he can't bend down and lick anything from this position. Instead, he reaches up with his spare hand and rakes his nails over a nipple, deliberately rough, and Dave spasms beneath him, eyes going wide.

"Oh fuck…"

Hearing that, recognising it for what it is, Kurt groans, and his orgasm hits him, strong, powerful, rushing through him until his entire body feels like it is tingling its release, and he sags, exhausted, hands resting on Dave's chest, shaky and he barely notices the streaks of come decorating the chest hair. His whole body is still trembling when Dave tilts them to the side a few moments later, slipping out and then stretching Kurt's legs, which is good, because he can't move them right now. Dave undoes the cock ring, slipping it loose and placing a gentle kiss to the head of his cock, making him smile.

"How I'm meant to go out in an hour and teach karate I have no fucking idea. I don't think I can stand right now…" Dave mutters, and Kurt grins, because if that's the case, then he considers it a job well done.